


If You Are Chilly (Here Take My Sweater)

by fairywine



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Christmas fic, F/F, Fluff, schmoop to the max
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 10:40:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3064739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairywine/pseuds/fairywine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because you take me the way I am. [Nyo!USUK Christmas fic]</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Are Chilly (Here Take My Sweater)

**Author's Note:**

> HetaChallenge 2013 Advent Fill, cold and Nyotalia!USUK.

It's not _fair_ , England thinks. Hers is a land no stranger to the bite of winter's cold. Compared to some of the Decembers she's seen over the course of her long life, this one in modern-day New York City should be child's play in comparison. ' _Should be_ ' being the operative phrase here.

To be perfectly honest, she did have to take some of the blame for her current state. While it is true England has a good tolerance for low temperatures, this is normally aided by warm, practical clothing. Why she had chosen today to throw sensibility out the window and not bother with anything warmer than a light sweater and scarf…  
  
As usual, it's America's fault. But the cheerful blonde didn't often compliment England straight to her face, so when she had mentioned liking the way the green dress the former empire had been wearing that day made her eyes pop, it had stayed with her. Enough so that when America invited her for an afternoon of ice skating at Rockefeller Center, England had found herself drifting to the dress against her own better judgment. Needless to say, the lesson she's learned from all this will be one she won't soon forget. Not only had America not said anything about the dress, but she also salted the wound with a skeptical look and comment about England being able to stay warm.  
  
Stupid America. England directs her fiercest glare her way (and that is indeed saying something). She had dressed practically for once, long jeans, turtleneck, sweater, scarf and her signature bomber jacket. England would have given her what for already had she not been preoccupied with clinging to the edge of the rink and not falling on her bum. She's a decent enough ice skater, but her lack of practice is showing and her heavy shivering doesn't help matters any. Meanwhile America prances around the rink like someone fused Tara Lipinski and Evan Lysacek into the body of an archetypical blonde-haired, blue-eyed pin-up girl. In the back of her mind England blames Sweden and Finland for all this, somehow, and regrets not thrashing the two of them in a war when she had the chance.  
  
The sound of metal scraping against ice throws England out of her sulking, and when she carefully turns to the source she sees America, hands on shapely hips and brows knitted.  
  
"Y'know, when I asked you to come skating, I thought you'd actually…you know… _skate_ ," America says. "Not stand against the wall and scowl."  
  
"It's been awhile, shove off," England snaps back, or tries to. Her chattering teeth rather ruin the whole effect. Red rises to her face when America just blinks in response, not even bothering to hide her growing amusement. Closing her eyes tightly, she gets ready to berate herself for coming at all.  
  
"Heh, your pride never changes no matter what. But I like that about you, somehow," America's voice rings out. Something warm and heavy and smelling of a strange yet comforting mixture of wheat fields, open skies, and cola drops on England's shivering shoulders. Looking down, the soft, weathered brown of America's bomber jacket meets England's eyes.  
  
"C'mon! If it's been awhile, we just gotta remind your body how to move," America says in a voice brimming with confidence while holding out a hand. Glancing at it hesistantly, England nonetheless reaches out for it after zipping up the other woman's jacket to encase herself in a kind of toasty America-scented heaven. "Once you get those muscles going, you'll warm right up."  
  
"Fine," England says, not mentioning how much warmer she already feels. "No smart comments, understood?"  
  
"Scout's honor," America winks, complete with the classic salute. England sighs out of habit more than anything else, but a smile still plays upon her lips as she carefully follows America's lead onto the ice.  
  
England doesn't notice how the time passes until they're doing the last call before closing up the rink. A little startled at just how the hours flew by, she does one last loop around the rink under the gaze of an approving America before hobbling off to remove her skates. Despite the rough start, she's very glad she came. Something so simple, yet it was so much fun.  
  
A sweet, steamy smell reaches her nose where she sits on the bench putting her shoes on. It registers in her mind after a moment's thought as hot cocoa, drifting up from the two cups America holds in her gloved hands. The tall blonde passes one to England wordlessly, and she nods her thanks before blowing on it to cool it down enough to drink.  
  
"Told ya if you just moved around you'd get warm," America finally says after a leisurely sip of her cocoa. "But a little extra help never hurts, especially when it involves chocolate."  
  
"Yes, yes, you win this one," England concedes. America is so quiet following that she thinks the matter over with, until she speaks up once more.  
  
"You look real cute in that dress, but I can't enjoy it if it means you're freezing in the process. You don't need to go that far to impress me, you know?" America patiently waits for England to get over her choking fit before adding with a sly smile, "But I like how you look in my jacket just as much."  
  
England blushes, hunching into the depths of the soft leather without thinking about it. She won't say it out loud, but for once she and America are in full and total agreement.


End file.
